


The Owl and the Bull

by alivehawk1701



Category: Basic Instinct (Movies), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Mænd & høns | Men & Chicken (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, But Breaking Things in the Process, Elias Has Anger Issues, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Self-Acceptance, Starting Over, Touch-Starved, trying to be a good brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29686059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alivehawk1701/pseuds/alivehawk1701
Summary: Elias and Gabriel go on holiday to Sweden and after a medical emergency end up in hospital wherein Elias gets anger, breaks things, is considered crazy, and meets a handsome nurse named Adam who only wants to help . . .Some art included, as per my usual, it seems, here in the lovely Hannibal Extended Universe.
Relationships: Elias (Men & Chicken)/Adam Towers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	The Owl and the Bull

The door was closed. Not locked. But closed. Purposefully and aggressively closed. And further, they’d placed a man in front of it. A brick shaped man with thin legs and a button strangled shirt. He eyed me up and down as if to say he could actually stand a chance against me.

“You’re going to force me to fight this man. This man in uniform. Just to see my brother. I don’t understand why you would do this,” my feet were planted on the linoleum with the guard to one side and a gaggle of nurses or doctors to the other, “I want to see him. I need to see him now!”

“Mr. . .” a man with extremely thick glasses tried, hands in the air, trying to subdue me like I was an animal.

“Elias,” I told him, “I’m Elias and that’s my brother Gabriel in there, we were on vacation, here in Sweden, and this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Elias,” the placating yet quivering man said, “I think you should just calm down. We’re taking care of him.”

“How? How are you taking care of him? What happened? Another pinched nerve? He had one of those before but he recovered. He is a behemoth of a man, formidable and stronger than any of you could ever hope to be.”

“We’re trying to figure out what happened,” the doctor said and I spotted more uniformed men skulking just in the distance, “We are doing our best to treat him but what we need, what he needs, is for you to let us do that, okay?”

“Without me? You don’t know anything about him! I know him better than anyone.”

“Good. Then we will speak to you about his medical history. If you will come sit down.”

“No. Here.”

“He’s safe. There’s no need for any more destruction.”

Destruction? I took many large gulps of air and focused my eyes. Yes, there was some wreckage. Stinging pain finally reached my brain and I looked down to see my hands red and bleeding in front of a caved in door and a shattered chair scattered in pieces at my feet. I flexed my shredded hands and gathered saliva around my dry tongue. The pain was only adding to my panic as the smell of blood reached my flared nostrils and my heartbeat thundered in my ears, “Here is fine. Ask me here.”

“Okay,” the doctor said slowly and glanced at the guard. Obviously he finally realized I wasn’t moving, not a chance, “Is there anything significant to your brother’s medical history we should know about? Is he on any medications?”

“Significant? Yes. He’s had four surgeries to fix his lip. He broke his leg when we were in primary school. He’s allergic to watermelon and occasionally strawberries. And he’s part owl.”

“Excuse me?”

“A small part.”

“Owl like the bird?”

“Yes like the bird! If you’re going to ask me what kind I don’t know. I’ve thought a lot about it and would be prepared to say boreal owl but have also had suspicions that could be a short-eared owl. Our father is dead. Otherwise you could ask him.”

“You’re brother is genetically part owl?”

“Is that significant? Does that change how you will treat him? Can I see him now?”

“What makes you believe he is part owl, Elias?”

“Believe? There’s a large amount of research and documentation and papers on Ork that would make you feel very stupid right now if you could see them. You’d feel very foolish.”

“Why owl, Elias? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know why an owl. Why a bull?”

“What bull?”

“Me. 11.4 percent of me is bull and 9 something of Gabriel is owl. But you don’t need to know about me. Why would you need to know about me? Can I please,” I took a step forward and the guard puffed himself up and the doctor jumped back against the wall as a droplet of blood from my fist hit the floor. I barely managed to huff out a strangled, “Okay,” and looked back to the door where Gabriel was, lowering my voice, “Please?”

“Elias,” the doctor said, eyes large behind his smudged lenses, “I appreciate the answers you were able to give me. Would you be willing to follow me to my office?”

I shook my head no.

“Please,” he said, glancing again at the guard, “I’m just going to have a nurse take a look at you, to be sure that you didn’t catch whatever your brother has.”

Catch? I hate traveling. This is why I don’t travel. Germs. Could we have caught the same thing? Whatever it was? I need to remain strong for him. For many reasons. I felt my jaw unclench and I desperately looked at the closed door again before slowly nodding. The doctor seemed extremely relieved as I followed him just down the hall.

“Right in here,” he said and held open the door.

“Thank you,” I stepped into a room with no windows, no desk, just a couch and a chair and a flickering fluorescent light. I spun on my heel, pacing along the creaking floor, nostrils flaring at the smell of bleach and ammonia.

“The nurse will be right with you, alright Elias?” the doctor said from the doorframe.

“Okay.” 

When the door shut through the small rectangular window I saw another similarly shaped and dressed guard, possibly a clone, standing right outside. 

This wasn't a doctors office. I continued to pace. With each step I felt as if the walls were pulling themselves closer together, the air thinning and disappearing all around me. I wanted to tear at the walls down, rip them to shreds, bloody my hands to shreds and bone. Like so many other times I felt my chest heave and fume with anger, vision blurred and mouth coppery with blood, trapped. 

A small knock at the door. I jumped into position, crouched, ready for whatever would greet me and then a small dark man in light blue scrubs peered through a crack in the door.

“May I come in?”

He had an English accent. And his Danish was atrocious. “Who are you?”

“I’m Adam, a nurse, I’m here to take your vitals,” he stepped all the way in, tugging along with him a chart with a small machine on it and various supplies.

“You’re checking for an infection. Maybe like my brother has. Right?”

“I’ll be taking your vitals,” he said, back turned to me as he pulled the cart in after him, “And I’ll dress your wounds, if that’s alright,” he turned to face me.

I froze. Heart skipped a giant beat in my chest and my mouth fell agape. Oh my god. He was the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I’ve never, in my whole life, seen anyone like him. He stepped forward with his little chart and I nearly choked. In fact I did, instantly coughing and gagging on an excess of saliva in my throat. His eyes. His face. The tousle of curls and the line of his jaw. Were people made to be this beautiful? My family all have very unique faces. All our own. And it was certainly clear that our father had no consideration for classical beauty. But his. His face was like something that could only be found in the stars.

“Nghhh!” I doubled over, spinning around and away from him as my cock rapidly became erect in my pants. Oh god. No. No, no, no. I shifted it through my pants, trying to tuck it into my waistband but even that pressure screamed at me for attention. No no no, not now, please no, no no no. 

“Are you okay?” the nurse asked.

“Fine,” I said but didn’t turn to face him. I looked down and at the wet strain of my trousers that ached and throbbed as I squeezed my eyes shut.

“I’ll start with temperature and blood pressure and then look at your hands, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” I cleared my throat, “I’m sorry,” I said and whimpered slightly, gathering my breath, turning around with my shoulders hunched.

“If you want to sit, I’ll,” his eyes dropped, of course they did. How could they not? Considering my size. It was never something I could easily hide. The clear blue of his eyes widened into oceans and then bounced back up to my face, “I’ll uh, take your temperature.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again, hands over the large bulge in my pants, “I’m sorry. I can’t”

“It’s okay,” he said far too reassuringly.

“No it’s not. I can’t control this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m here with my brother. I’m very angry and very concerned and now I’m uh, can I use the bathroom?”

“I’m sorry, you have to say here.”

“Okay,” I avoided looking at him. God where did he come from? “Can I sit now?”

“Of course,” he said. 

I sat quickly on the couch and winced at the pressure as the nurse, Adam, held out a thermometer.

“Under the tongue,” he said and let me take it and place it under my tongue.

Waited a moment. Beep. Beep. Don’t look at his eyes. Beep. “Good,” he said and then reached for a blood pressure cuff. He tore the velcro apart and sought my eyes, even for a second, even just to be comforting but I felt too embarrassed, too overwhelmed, “Temperature is 98.9.”

“I run a little hot. I should even be warmer. It’s the longitudinal lines I think.”

“Can you uncross your legs, please?” he asked, holding out the cuff.

I met his eyes directly for the first time and only found concern and kindness and warmth. I hadn’t expected that. Beautiful people are disproportionately cruel people.

I shook my head.

“It’s alright,” he said, “I’ve seen it all.”

I uncrossed my legs, my cock pressed high against the fabric of my trousers, straight up with a stain of wetness spreading across the hem. 

“How tall are you?” Adam asked, a rosy blush spreading across his face as he kept his eyes away from me and away from my hard cock as he secured the cuff around my arm and stuck the buds of his stethoscope in his ears.

“One metre eighty, thereabouts,” I said.

“Weight?”

“I don’t know. I usually weigh more on Tuesdays.”

“Oh?” he smiled and I nearly wept at the sight of it.

He finished with my blood pressure and nodded, “Also good. Though a little high.”

“My hands are fine,” I insisted.

“I still have to check.”

“Can I see my brother?”

“I was told you have to stay here,” he said in a way that would be gentle if it didn’t feel as if he was holding me captive.

“Why would they tell you that?” I insisted, almost standing up again, “Why won’t anyone tell me what happened?”

“I’m sorry, Elias,” he said, remaining where he was. Quiet. Something about his stillness. His certainty. Made me think of safety. Of being tucked under the covers listening to a story. I felt my face twist and shudder with the effort of remaining seated but I counted one, two, three, as Gabriel had taught me and found what patience I could.

“Why don't you tell  _ me _ what happened?” Adam asked and pulled the cart next to us with a blue tissue paper on top, “Can you put your hands up here please?”

I looked down at my hands and noticed them shaking. I put them on the cart. It hurt to straighten my fingers. I closed my eyes and felt my chest shake with fear and pain. Even if he seemed trustworthy I didn’t want to trust him. Didn’t want to risk it. With a deep breath I remembered Gabriel telling me about another way to stay calm. Find a colour, he’d said. Find a colour somewhere around you and find it everywhere. Blue scrubs. Blue paper. Blue gloves. Blue eyes. Eyes. Adam met my eyes and everything seemed to come to a screeching halt.

I watched him put his gloves on and stopped, for a moment, worrying my lower lip with my teeth, “We came to Sweden on holiday. It’s not far. We just wanted to get away. Gabriel wanted to see some natural science museum here. Something about a dodo. A stuffed dodo. And I’ve never been to Sweden, though it’s so close, I’ve never been anywhere. And there was an ice rink. And I wanted to go ice skating and he didn’t want to. He said he would just watch me but I wanted him to come with me. And then he wouldn’t even put on his skates until he’d had a hot dog. Ice skating and hot dogs seem like a nonsequiteur but this is Sweden. Everything is backwards somehow.”

Adam was cleaning my wounds with a soft bit of cotton and some sort of fluid that looked as if it should sting but it didn’t, “I’d have to agree, to a degree, I’m not Swedish either.”

“Obviously you’re not,” I bulked, “You’re grasp of the language is abominable.”

“Oh thanks,” he laughed, “So much for immersion.”

“You’re English.”

“I’m English.”

“Where? London?”

“You got it.”

“Why would you come here?”

He hesitated, eyes darting to the side under long lashes, “I ran into some trouble back in London,” he said distantly, “And my mum was from Sweden.”

“Denmark is better.”

“I haven’t been.”

“You made a mistake. Swedes put disgusting prawn salad on hot dogs.”

“If that’s the worst thing they ever do I can forgive them that,” he picked up one of my hands, softly running his thumb over the curve of a knuckle, “Does that hurt?” I shook my head, “What happened next?”

“Well he ate the hot dog,” I tensed as he dabbed some ointment on the wounds, “I got my skates on and,” my throat tightened and I struggled to breath suddenly, let alone talk, “And he just, my brother,” I lowered my chin into my chest, wanting to hide the tears that came roaring through me, biting back a sob, “He just collapsed.”

I felt a hand on my arm and I looked up in unexpected amazement. “I know you must be scared.”

I nodded, hot tears spilling down my face as my shoulders shook. “ I don’t know what to do without him,” I shook my head, every detail, every smell and shape and agony of Gabriel being lowered into the ground as I stood above and all my brothers leaving me to a hopeless empty life without him flashed through my mind. I didn’t even know if he wanted to be cremated or buried. Or what to do with this ashes. I looked at Adam through blurry tear filled eyes, “He always said he’d come back for me.” 

Adam said nothing. His hand didn’t move. His fingers tightened around my forearm and something in that moment convinced me that he knew what it was like. To lose someone. To fear to lose someone. To be afraid. 

“I shouldn’t have broken anything. I just get angry.”

“It’s alright. It’s a normal reaction.”

“Is it?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “Anger is better than fear. No one wants to feel helpless.”

He gave me another moment than removed his hand and I tried to find my way back, to what needed to be done, “I wasn’t going to hurt anyone.”

“I know.”

I sniffed, wanting to wipe my face but not able to, “I’m forced to question a hospital that runs by sicking guards upon the loved ones of those in their care. If they have the manpower for that there should be ten doctors per patient and my brother should be out of here on the way back to Denmark by now. You should think about who you work for. Their priorities are askew, to say the least.”

“Their priority is safety,” he said, carefully laying gauze over my knuckles, then pausing to watch me, “That doesn't hurt too much?” I shook my head, “I maybe shouldn’t be telling you this but they’re going to want to evaluate you.”

“Evaluate?”

“Screen you. Make sure you are alright.”

“The infection you mean.”

“I mean to make sure you are safe. Not a danger to yourself or anyone else.”

“Why?”

“Some of the things you were saying concerned them.”

“About the owl and the bull,” I thought for a moment, “That’s very close minded.”

“They’re obligated to make sure.”

“To make sure I’m not crazy.”

“Yeh,” he said, not denying it.

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Maybe I’m not that close minded,” he said, ripping a piece of tape and securing the bandage, “But for your sake, and your brothers, I’d not mention the bull or the owl thing again.”

“But it’s true.”

“Trust me,” he said, sitting back and taking off his gloves.

There was a knock on the door and a man peered through the door, “Done here?” he asked. He was wearing tweed that rudely suggested elbow pads.

“Yes,” Adam said and stood up, hands on his chart as the other man pushed through the door with clipboard in hand.

I looked up at Adam. I felt my shoulders and ribcage cave inwards, collapsing into my beating heart as I watched him leave, “Adam,” I pleaded, and he turned to me in response.

“I’ll check in later,” he said then walked and wheeled out of the room. Leaving the tweed man to square his shoulders and clear his throat and tut his way into the chair opposite me.

Still looking at the door Adam had left from I felt an immense and staggering emptiness as I heard the man say, “You’re Elias, right?”

“Yes,” I said, looking to him as I placed my bandaged hands on my knees in a preliminary step to look as sane as possible.

“I’m Dr. Maron, I’m a psychiatrist. I’m here to speak with you about what’s happened today.”

“Alright,” I nodded, “Do you know how my brother is?”

“They told me he is resting comfortably, he’s alright.”

“He is?” I felt relief wash over me, followed quickly by more anger, “What happened?”

“I’m not sure about all that’s happened but it sounds like a severe allergic reaction.”

“Okay,” I bit my lip, “To what?”

“The prawns, most likely,” he said then held his hand up in a gesture that I’m sure he hoped inspired calm, “Though I am not a medical doctor so, once we talk you’ll have the opportunity to speak with one the doctors that treated your brother, alright?”

“The prawns,” I felt my upper lip twitch into a snarl, “I should have known.”

“You were on holiday with your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Never been to Sweden?”

“No.”

“He’s your older brother?”

“Why do people always think that? I’m his older brother.”

“Good, good,” he said nodding and clicking his pen over the paper in his lap, “And you were born in Denmark?”

“Yes. Born in Denmark. Lived in Denmark. You want to know our whole family history? Your clipboard isn’t big enough, trust me. I’d really rather just see my brother.”

He readjusted himself and his glasses, “You watch out for your brother?”

“When he needs it. I’m more physically capable than him,” I squared my shoulders, “People, children, would pick on him, steal his lunch money, his pencil sharpeners, I was there to assert my authority and protect him. And his brains. Always a better thinker than me.”

“Just as an older brother should,” he said, “Very considerate of you.”

“It’s not consideration. It’s family.”

“Family is important to you.”

“Very much so.”

“Can you tell me about your family?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Most are.”

“Not like ours.”

“How is yours different?”

“We all have the same father. Just a different mother.”

He paused, lips turning white and thin as he considered and scribbled and narrowed his eyes. He was like a garbage man. Wanting to gather all the bits and bobs he could, gathering them around him like a magpie stamping and scratching in its nest, “Different mothers like a bull? Or an owl?”

I blinked. Heard Adam’s words. Felt the swirling madness of all the things I’d learned and tried to accept about my newfound family history forming some sort of shape inside my head. Outside the island it was clear that no one would understand. I shifted my stiff fingers in their gauze, “Our father was an eccentric. It was only recently that we realized how much so. Regardless of our different mothers we’ve only wanted to be close, establish the bonds missing for all these years.”

“But why animals?” he asked, ‘What did you mean when you said you were part bull when you spoke to the other doctors?”

“I was upset,” I said, shifting in my seat, “I didn’t mean it.”

“You don’t believe that you, and your brother, are part animal?”

“No,” shook my head, “That’s just crazy.”

“It’s not crazy to feel different. It’s not crazy to feel angry.”

“I have anger issues,” I conceded, “I know. And what just happened is a blur. I don’t wholly remember all of it and I’m sorry. But I know where I am now and I know that all I want is to see my brother again, to get out of this room, okay?”

“These anger issues, you’ve always had them?”

“Always.”

“Must be hard.”

“It’s part of who I am.”

“Do you like who you are?”

“What does that have to do with it?” I balked, “I can’t change who I am.”

“And when you get angry, do you feel you could hurt people? Hurt yourself?”

Again I twitched, knowing full well that he was right, that when I get to a certain point I completely forget all reason and only see red and all I want is to fight or fuck or both so long as I’m still standing, “I’ve learned to control myself,” I looked at his clipboard, “I reacted badly only beacuse I was afraid. Afraid for my brother,” I leaned forward, “Please, please can I see him?”

He eyed me again with his magpie eyes and clicked his beak, “You may,” he heaved a deep breath, “Though I’d encourage you, when you are back in Denmark, to seek some anger management classes, alright?”

“I will.”

“We all feel like a bull at times,” he said, turning his clipboard on his knees and folding his elbows over it, “Angry. Violent. As if the only option is fighting. Destroying. But you don’t have to be at the mercy of those impulses.”

“You’re right.”

“Good,” he nodded, “Well,” he drummed his fingers on his knees, “I think you are set to go, Elias. Are you sure you’re alright? Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No.”

“Perfect,” he stood and I stood as well, eager to see Gabriel. He stopped, feathers ruffled, “Another doctor will be in to escort you to your brother’s room.”

I sat back down, pushed to the limit, my limit, sweat soaked through my shirt all the way to my sweater. But still, somehow, I saw the colour blue, the blue of Adam’s eyes, lingering somewhere at the corner of my eyes. I let it calm me.

“Gabriel,” I said, shuffling toward his bed where he laid looking pale and pruny. The doctor who I’d just spoken with nodded at us both and left, tugging the curtain closed around us, “How are you feeling?”

“Elias,” he said with concern, eyes darting to my bandaged hands, “What happened to your hands?”

“They wouldn’t let me see you. I uh,” I looked down to my feet, “I got angry and they were determined to treat me like a lunatic.”

“Are you alright?”

“Am I alright?” I retorted, “I'm not the one in a hospital bed! You stopped breathing! I thought,” I felt fear and sadness march back into my mind and only wanted to hug him, “I thought you’d die.”

“Die? No,” he said with a deep breath, reaching his hand out which I took with mine, “I just had a bad reaction, Elias. I had no way of knowing. We never ate crustaceans when we were children.”

“We had more sense.”

“Meaning there was no way to prevent it.”

“It’s ridiculous, ruining a perfectly good hot dog like that. I can’t believe they are our neighbors. I don't care about their apparent superior design skills. Interior design skills. We do it better. You should have seen how easily that door caved in. Barely touched it.”

“Elias.”

“They nearly killed my brother.”

“Elias,” he said in a sterner voice, catching my attention, “We’re alright. Things happen on holiday that are unexpected, don’t they?”

I looked down at our hands and then at his pale face and the tube running up from his vein, “You never got to see your dodo.”

“It will still be there,” he said with a weary sigh.

I lowered my hand and stood up straighter, “Doctor said you will be able to leave in a few hours. They just want to be sure, really sure and then discharge you.”

He nodded and closed his eyes for a moment then opened them, “You did good, Elias,” I felt my lip quiver, “You got me here. We’ll be home before you know it.”

A small knock on the wall alerted us to someone on the other side of the curtain and we both turned to see Adam pulling back the gauchely patterned fabric, “Hello Elias. Gabriel,” he kept and held my eyes for a startling moment before looking to Gabriel to say, “I’m Adam, a nurse, I worked with Elias. Was just checking in on you both before my shift ended.”

“Thank you,” Gabriel said, “I’m feeling much better.”

“Stay away from prawns,” Adam advised, glancing again at me.

“The other doctor, the psychiatrist, cleared me,” I told Adam, proud and not afraid to puff my chest out slightly, “He seemed very curious about my anger and after I assured him I’m no threat and far from crazy he lost interest.”

“I’m glad,” Adam said. I quickly looked at Gabriel who seemed very astonished, almost insultingly so, that this angel of a man was talking to me. Adam cleared his throat, “Elias, would you want to grab a cup of coffee with me, before your brother is discharged?” the shock spilling from my face prompted him to continue, “Only if you feel comfortable leaving him of course,” he smiled, “My train’s not due for another thirty minutes.”

“I uh,” I looked to Gabriel who even in his weakened state had an extremely suggestive yet wordless expression of encouragement on his face, “Alright. Sure.”

“I’m going to lie quiet for a bit, Elias,” Gabriel assured me with raised eyebrows, “Go, have a good time.”

“Wonderful,” Adam said and turned to leave, beckoning me to follow.

I gave Gabriel one last look, saw him smile, and did my best to wink, however well my coordination allowed. Still getting the hang of it.

I followed Adam through the hospital, out the front doors, and to the corner to cross the street. I walked next to him, shoulder to shoulder, instantly unsure what to say. What do people say when they are crossing the street together?

“What trouble did you get up to in London?” I blurted out, then sighed, kicking myself internally at the shocked, almost bemused expression on Adam’s face as we stepped into the crosswalk. His face that looked even more flawless in the golden light of the sun when compared to the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital, if it were even possible, “I mean, uh, it feels unseasonably warm. The average for March is five degrees.”

Through a honking horn Adam said with a laugh, “It’s alright, I don’t mind talking about my past,” graciously, “Though preferably not whilst navigating the treacherous streets of Stockholm.”

“I’ve never been to a city so large,” I said, stepping onto the curb and gazing up at the buildings. All metal and glass. I felt very small and very big at the same time.

“Country boy, eh?”

“Exceedingly so. And exponentially, it seems.”

Adam gestured to a steaming cart and the kind of standard queue that indicated a coffee cart, “Hope you don’t mind, it’s very good coffee and only a hop and a skip. We can go sit in the park.”

We got our coffees and walked a short way to a park bench that was under a large tree. Adam sat down and I hesitated a moment, feeling too wide and lanky next to him but sat, placing the cup on my knee.

“Apart from the prawn populace this really isn’t a bad place to live,” he said, taking a sip that turned his lips pink, “I hope that this whole ordeal hasn’t sullied the country permanently for you.”

I shook my head, “I’ve met you. That’s far from being fully sullied.” I glanced quickly to his corresponding smile then away to watch a squirrel run off with what looked like a biscuit up a tree.

“I’m glad to be the exception then.”

“This is nicer than London?”

“London was great. Is great. I just wasn't . . . great there. I ran with the wrong crowd, so to speak. Lost track of who I was.”

“I’ve had to find myself again too,” I nodded then took a drink, wiping coffee from my mustache, “Had to accept some things.”

“We have that in common then,” he looked off into the distance, “I almost died.”

“What?!” 

“That’s painfully dramatic, I’m sorry.”

“How? Who?”

“It wasn’t anyone. Well, sort of, but I got myself into the bind all myself,” he laughed a little, “You may be ahead of me on the whole accepting who you are part.”

Even his sadness was beautiful, even his recalling of past regrets painted him in the most flattering and breathtaking hues of humanity, “Some things you can’t change about yourself. No matter how much you try. It’s undeniable. If you’re born with it written into your genes you’ll make yourself sick hating what can’t change.”

“Exactly,” he said distantly, seeming to drift away for a moment on a thought, one that darkened his eyes, then snapped back, “But hey, Adam 2.0, and I make a rather good nurse, if I say so. Had nearly all the credits already anyway, so,” he shrugged, “Started again.”

“You could be part possum.”

“Possum to your bull?” he looked at me with a questioning look, “What parts of you are bull, exactly?”

I stiffened, wetting the dry interiors of my mouth, “I don’t have a tail, if that’s what you mean.”

“No,” he insisted quickly, “No, that’s not what I meant, really.”

I allowed myself to look into his eyes and felt that actually, potentially, hopefully, he wasn’t making fun of me, “A boy in town called me a freak. Kicked me in the shin. Espoused the persecution of my whole family and ran off,” he said nothing, just listened, and I was again amazed to discover sympathy, somehow, amazingly, understanding, “I’m just,” I tightened my fist around my coffee cup, “Just different. Parts of myself that I’d never understood, that caused me loads of problems just suddenly made sense, were explained,” I shifted in my seat, “ All from the part of me that is well, less than human. My anger. Strength. My abundance of sexual energy.”

“Oh?”

I sighed, “It’s far from picturesque. I’m constantly aroused and masturbate near constantly,” I groaned, seeing the wordless shock on his face, “I’m sorry. No one’s really ever asked. It's lewd, bordering on disgusting.”

“No,” Adam scooted closer to me and reached for my hand and held it in his. It was cooler again mine, smaller, engulfed in the thick calluses of my fingers, “I’ve met disgusting people. Wolves in sheeps clothing who seemed simgulary bent on their own self interests no matter the cost. You’re not that. Far from it.”

I felt blood rushing to my groin, proving or disproving his point, making me close my eyes, “Is that why you asked me out to coffee?”

“Yeh,” he nodded, “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

I met his eyes, still alarmed that he even would dare, chose, chance, looking at someone like me, “You’re like from a dream,” I said, endlessly content at the feeling his leg against mine, the warmth of his body like a patch of sun on a cloudy day, “I’ve only seen you behind closed eyes.”

He blushed sweetly and his hand tightened around mine, “How unexpected. For both of us.”

“Unexpected.”

He looked suddenly to his wrist at a sharp beeping of an alarm, shoulders dropping, “My train.”

He kept my hand in his and turned my palm over to run the pad of his thumb up and over the underside of my fingers. It made me shiver and shake, eyes squeezing shut. I knew he had to leave. And knew in that moment I didn’t want him to. Didn’t want to leave in the middle of the page.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Elias,” he said, “I don’t think this is the end,” he smiled, close enough that the warmth of his breath was damp on my cheek, “It’s the beginning,” he looked down to my lips, the lips I’ve scoffed and scorned and hated and asked softly, “Can I kiss you?”

“Me?” I felt myself shiver, “Why?”

“Because you’re kissable,” he smiled.

“Okay, I-” I managed and he closed the distance between our lips and pressed the soft sweetness of his lips against mine. For a shocked and desperate moment I was terrified that I’d be clumsy, clutzy, hopeless and then my eyes closed and the velvety feeling of his tongue on my lower lip drove me forward into a breathless, beautiful kiss, the most tender and real kiss I’d ever had. He pulled back and rested his forehead against my curls. I’d never felt anything like it before. Not from, with any person. It was a wash of colour in a greyscale life. An open and endless path.

“Do you want to see Denmark?” I asked, opening my eyes near his.

“I do,” he smiled and placed another kiss on my lips. 

I let go of his hand to bring mine up to his jaw, to the warm pulse there, “I don’t have a phone.”

“I do,” he leaned into my hand.

I braved a hurried kiss on his lips, unsure I was allowed, not knowing, not caring just how incredible and unbelievable every moment of contact with him was.

Adam pulled back and swiped a hand through my tangled curls, smiling widely, “I’ll give you mine.”

“There’s a phone in town.”

“Good.”

“I’ll call you.”

“You better.”

Adam stood and the heavy weight of my erection kept me where I was as I gazed up at him. He gathered his bag and his coffee and stood in front of me, “I gotta go.”

“No,” I stood, struggling with the urgency that sung through my body.

“Elias,” he said, placing a hand on my waist, quirking an eyebrow at the shape of my penis through my pants, “Let’s remember this moment,” his eyes shone in the sun, “When we didn’t let an opportunity pass us by. When we made a promise we intended to keep.”

My big hands fell onto his thin body and I only wanted him near me. So long as I didn’t ejaculate right then and there, which I didn’t want to do, couldn’t do, not when it was going so well, “You promise?”

He pulled out a pen and paper, maneuvering through my arms and handed me a piece of paper, “I have the feeling Denmark will have more to offer than Sweden.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing Basic Chicken. I rewatched Men and Chicken and Basic Instinct 2, and was inspired not just by the pairing but by Elias who does indeed break my heart in so many ways. There are some incredible creative peeps in this corner of the fandom and wanted to contribtue to the sweetest, strangest pairings I've known. 
> 
> No hate to Sweden, really, nor to prawns. 
> 
> In this AU Adam nearly dies and chooses to completly change his path in life. So nurse! Maybe he will move to the island too. I may write more, we will see . . .
> 
> Leave a comment, let me know what you think. Also if any of you lovely readers on on Twitter or elsewhere (I am not for personal reasons) give a shoutout, only if you are comfortable of course. Thanks so so much for reading.


End file.
